Illusive Innuendoes
by The Readers Muse
Summary: How our dashing Julian finally realized what was in front of him all along.. and how he finally took fate by the horns and led it to where he wanted to go.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't not own Star Trek DS9 any of it's characters. Do you THINK I would be here If I did?! So I do not in any way shape or form own any of the plot or the characters. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor college university, yadda yadda yadda.

**Authors Note:** This is a Garak and Bashier story, a relationship that had so much potential and promise on the show, but unfortunately the Producers and writers turned them a blind eye, leaving us to only fantasize about what could have been. (Clue to a sad, long-suffering sigh).

**A/N #2:** Unlike in a zoo, feel free to feed the author with your comments and reviews. Not only does it provide us with ideas and constructive criticism, but a good review leaves us with a warm fuzzy feeling inside that lets us know our work is appreciated. So, please read and review. I am excited to see what you all think. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism.

**Illusive Innuendos**

Doctor Julian Bashir, golden boy of Starfleet medical, resident heartthrob of the entire station, the ever smiling, ever cheerful medical savior of Deep Space Nine wore an uncharacteristic frown as he stalked down the sparsely lit corridors. His foul humor only increasing as he nearly collided with a passing crewman in the dim light, letting loose a few choice curses detailing the questionable parentage of the stations Cardassian designers as he moved on. Seemingly unaware that he had mixed a Klingon and Bajoran expletive together, creating a curse so scathing it would have made Chief O'Brien himself proud.

Upon reaching his rooms he stabbed in his code viciously, as if each key had done him some sort of personal injustice. He didn't even bother to turn on his lights as he locked the door behind him, heading straight for a hidden cabinet underneath the replicator, letting his keen eyes simply adjust to the gloom, the stars outside the nearest porthole serving as his only light. After a few minutes of rummaging through the small space he found his quarry and took out a single pale blue bottle, the color muted slightly by the copious layer of dust that covered it.

With a frown he blew off the dust, impatiently checking the seal with a practiced eye before grabbing the matching glass beside it, the brightly glazed decanter the same brilliant ice blue color as the long-stemmed bottle in his grip.

Tossing himself carelessly across the couch he unzipped his uniform jacket, throwing it to the floor with hardly a second glance, his shoes and socks unceremoniously joining the rumpled jacket in a growing multi-colored pile behind the charcoal gray couch. Even the color of the inert object bringing the very cause of his frustration back to the forefront of his trouble mind.

Pouring himself a generous measure he knocked back a quick mouthful, hardly letting the punishing liquid touch his tongue as it slithered down his throat, punching his empty stomach like Odo's mean left hook in combat training on the holodeck.

He grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as he ignored the need to cough before taking another swallow. As the evening wore on it wasn't long before the effects of the potent liquor had done their work, relaxing his tense muscles and soothing the confusion that roared in his mind to a dull muttering whisper.

"God damn, smart-assed...sneaky...Cardassian!" He muttered as he wove unsteadily to his feet, plunking down his glass on the table, not even noticing the liquid that sloshed out of the sides as he stepped away. Walking resolutely to the bathroom with all the confidence a significantly drunk person could muster, he pulled out the sonic sink and splashed his face with water, running a golden tanned hand through his unruly black curls.

_'It never fails..'_ He thought sardonically, slipping off his regulation undershirt as he examined his reflection in the mirror critically, taking in the dark circles that had taken residence under his brown eyes, and the harsh bristly stubble that marred the smoothness of his face, marking nearly seventy-two hours since his last shave.

"We can't even have a simple bloody conversation without arguing." He muttered darkly, his arms balanced on either side of the sink as he watched the water swirling around and around in the basin below, gurgling past the dimly glowing lights, a testament to his fatigue as even the small light, barely visible in the near darkness of his quarters felt like phaser beams piercing his sore eyes.

Snapping the device closed he returned to his seat at the couch, stretching out to completely cover the surface of the uncomfortable couch, which like all the furniture and decor around the station had been designed with a Cardassian's comfort in mind. And therefore was hideously uncomfortable to everyone else. _'Very uncomfortable.' _ He commented mentally, wiggling around a bit, trying in vain to find a comfortable position.

"I'll bet Garak is _**perfectly**_ comfortable." He snarled darkly, his voice echoing metalically within the walls of his empty quarters as he poured himself another shot. Downing it as quickly as the last, he brushed an idle hand across the toned expanse of his stomach to catch a few wayward drops, delivered there accidentally by his shaky hand.

It wasn't until he was halfway through pouring another when he realized what he had said, and with a rush of self-loathing he immediately sobered. The bottle in his grip clanking abruptly back to the table, his hand going up to massage a sudden ache in his temple.

He had no right to think like that and he knew it. If anyone on the station deserved to be recognized for their tolerance and pure determination to continue going on it was Garak. He existed in a place that offended his every sensibility, ground his every nerve. Julian couldn't even begin to imagine his discomfort. Not that he hadn't striven to understand however. As after he had removed that endorphin releasing device from the over grown lizards brain, he had sworn that he would never be caught so unprepared again, Cardassian secrecy be damned!

So, after quite a lot of sweat and cursing O' Brien had finally unlocked the old Cardassian medical files..or what was left of them anyway. And from the few uncorrupted bits, he had managed to glean a great deal, finally quenching at least a portion of his curiosity on the mysterious physiology of the Cardassian race.

After he had devoured all there was he couldn't help but marvel at the mans determination. This station, now completely altered for a more Human and Bajoran population must truly be torture. His keen doctors eye had certainly not missed those few subtle signs the extremely closed off man had displayed. Like the most slight of winces over lunch at the replimat, or the addition of another later of clothing to stave off the chill he now felt in full force. _'Yes, Garak was certainly something to marvel.' _He allowed himself cautiously. He only wished the man could see what was right in front of him!

"**Me!**" The troubled doctor groaned, bringing his innermost thoughts to voice, as if somehow finally saying it aloud would magically make it so. _'But no...'_ He thought with a snort, letting his head drop on the back of the hard cornered couch with a muted thud, instantly regretting the action as his head throbbed painfully. Instead the man insisted on arguing virtually every sentence he voiced, his every word nearly to the point of disagreeability. He seemed to find delight in tormenting him to near exasperation and anger, making an epic argument over a mere observation or insignificant comment. It was driving him bloody well mad!

He sighed heavily, letting the pent up breath exit in an explosive rush as he poured himself another drink, his eyes trained on the swirling ice blue brew as he thought back, wondering just when he had realized he had fallen for the blue eyed tailor.

It had all began right from their very first meeting in the replimat. Julian had been drawn to him immediately, his unending enthusiasm latching on to the intriguing man as fast as the Lebonize Zeta flu attacks the motor muscles of the human brain. At first, it was merely the allure of excitement, the possibility that the elegantly spoken Cardassian was more then the 'plain and simple tailor' he claimed to be. Gradually however, the mystery diminished into a more simmering curiosity as he strove to know more about the nature of his secretive acquaintance.

And then, with a sneakiness that rivaled his dark-ridged friend, a friendship had blossomed. Sporadic meetings in the replimat turned into permanent lunch dates every few days. Their conversations grew rich as the foundation of trust was slowly laid down between them. Even then Julian had felt a distinct feeling of triumph, knowing that Garak had come to trust him, and because of that trust share with him many things he would never discuss with others. He had also come to value their closely matched intellects, finding a scholarly-like pleasure in their virtually endless debates. They discussed anything and everything, even exchanging classical literature and film recommendations, both eagerly anticipating the discussions that always followed.

To Juilian, Elim Garak was a man of uncountable facets. Both gentle and ruthless, open yet still unfathomably mysterious. He was the very embodiment of a person that was both, all at once, the hunter and the hunted. He had been witness to both sides of this man, the good and the bad, and yet his respect for him had not once diminished.

He was fully aware of what his seemingly passive tailor was capable of. There was barely a person that could match the Cardassian's skill at breaking passwords and codes, and barely anyone he knew who could raise their phaser faster. The man was always two steps ahead of you and had proved his deviousness ten-fold over the years since Julian had known him.

And then there was that rare, softer side, when the calculated mask of the battle-hardened man fell and the true man hidden beneath was revealed. Whether it was something as simple as watching him laugh, his breathing coming out in rattle-like wheezes, a Cardassians version of a full on belly-laugh...or with acts of compassion and selflessness, each one unveiled another part of the complex man to light.

One such instance stuck out in his mind, still to this day creating quite the poient picture when recalled. Garak of course vehemently denied it, simply smiling his crafty smile and replying, "Why doctor, I believe you have fallen prey to a rather gross exaggeration" or some other such nonsense. Julian however, knew better, having the best witness anyone could ask for, an eternally grateful father.

It had occurred during a surprise attack by the Romulan empire, an instance that was later blamed on a rebel military faction. Since the stations sensors had been damaged during the attack it was impossible to know just how many uncloaked, but Dax estimated it was close to five.

Regardless the number, the barrage of plasma missiles they let loose caused chaos and carnage over half the station. And as fate would have it Keiko O'Brien and young Molly were in the replimat when it happened. She had been at the replicator when a nearby power conduit blew, throwing Keiko into the air and far into the grips of unconsciousness.

Garak was there in moments, having been lunching alone nearby, and while others stampeded out in panic, leaving the crumpled woman and screaming child behind, Garak was at the fallen womans side, hushing the crying child and checking the petite Chinese woman for any serious injuries.

O'Brien had later told him, his tongue adequately loosened by some of Quark's finest Irish whiskey, that he had never seen the likes of it in all his years. He had come barreling around the corner, his hydro-spanner held in his fist like a club, quite sure he would find his wife and child in the grips of some Romulan foot solider, bent on slaughter, destruction, and rape. But instead he almost slammed right into the man, having to take a few quick steps backward to avoid him.

He came upon them on their way to the infirmary. The stronger man, usually appearing so rigid and confrontational, had slung Keiko gently over his shoulder, her long black hair spilled over his neck ridges as she hung there limply, his dark-ridged hand wrapped around her slim waist for support. O'Brien's small daughter in his other arm, curled tightly into the shelter of his arm pit, her little hands griping the wide collar of his tunic, her face pressed softly into the hollow of his neck, as he murmured soft, encouraging words to her.

Both men had stopped short upon seeing the other. Both shocked and surprised...both suddenly unsure of where they stood, even as the smoke of the explosion fanned out around them, the flickering flames crackling in the background as the conduit threatened to short circuit again.

Finally, Miles pushed back his initial distrust, and inherent dislike of the Cardassian race aside, and had given Garak an appreciating nod, one in which the Cardassian had returned. Somehow still managing to look dignified as he inclined his head, with a curious four year old latched tightly around his neck. One in which, who had gotten over her initial fright and shyness, and had begun to play with his shining dark hair, and was eying his scales with childish curiosity.

As Miles told it, he had taken Molly in his arms, and both men had walked side by side to the infirmary, where Garak had silently slipped out, leaving the worried man to attend to his injured wife. It was because of that simple, yet powerful gesture, a gesture that unwittingly showed Garak's true colors...that since that day the Chief set aside his long nurtured, though understandable prejudices, and took the Cardassian's hand in his own and they shook hands, forming a new, if not shaky friendship. Though both would only admit to merely tolerating the other, everyone who knew them, knew better, for something drastic had changed between them that day. Julian supposed that if he ever had children of his own he would understand it better.

He dragged his palms over his eyes in frustration, attempting quite hopelessly to banish his traitorous thoughts from his alcohol addled brain. Pouring himself another shot, he idly noticed the bottle was nearly half empty.

A noise behind him attracted his attention and he craned his head backwards to peer blearily behind the couch before his brain finally recognized the sound. But instead of dutifully retrieving his chirping comm-badge he ignored it and returned to the drink he was nursing, with only his fingers betraying his distracted attention as they tightened reflexively as the badge continued to click behind him, the sound slightly muffled from under the pile of clothes.

He was not in the mood for seeing or talking to anyone. _'Why couldn't they just respect his goddamn privacy!'_ He thought angrily. He just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, god knew he had enough on his mind. When his com-badge finally fell silent, he raised his glass to the ceiling and silently thanked Major Kira's all knowing Prophets for the reprieve.

Sighing, he tipped his head back and stared unfocusedly through the gloom at the dark ceiling panels above his head, snorting in half-tortured amusement as he found even the color of his ceiling reminded him of his dark-gray friend. He could still remember the precise moment he had realized his feelings for the sly shopkeeper. It had been over half a year ago now, the realization coming to him from a series of repeated dreams, all stemming from one particularly passionate evening of discussion.

He had been walking down the nearly deserted promenade, fresh from his evening shift in Sickbay when he had come across the tailor just closing up his shop. After their usual banter, Garak had proposed a stop for tea at the replimat and Julian and readily accepted. Soon they were neck deep in yet another debate on Shakespeare's _Taming of the Shrew_, the latest play Garak had chosen to peruse from the rather lengthly list Julian had recommended. Julian thought it was rather ironic, thought he was not entirely surprised when Garak claimed to have enjoyed it. _'It figures...'_ He remembered thinking. _'One of the only Shakespeare plays he disliked, Garak would love.'_

The main debate began however, over their two separate interpretations of the ending, and before they knew it the resulting discussion had leeched far into the evening hours.

It had happened quite suddenly, they had been walking back to the habitat-ring, still vigorously arguing the various possible interpretations for the rather depressing conclusion to one of Shakespeare's earlier plays, when the lights above them suddenly flickered. The plasma powered overheads beginning an ominous ear-tingling whine, drawing their eyes upward before the traitorous fixture suddenly flashed brilliantly above them, the obvious malfunction causing the lights to increase in brightness nearly ten times their normal setting before flickering down to pale, dull yellow. It wasn't only Garak that had been affected, the momentary incident had caused hundreds of undulating dots to swarm over his own vision.

But Garak's reaction was far more serious. The intensity of the light burning his delicate retinas caused him to hiss in pain and surprise, sending him ducking against the wall, attempting to avoid the intense flare. Julian's enhanced reflex's only just caught him, grasping the larger man by the shoulders, half-supporting his weight as he tried to recover, his whole form shuddering lightly in his grip.

"Garak! Are you alright?" He had inquired worriedly, his practiced physicians eye cataloging the mans reactions, noticing his drawn face, his rapidly blink eyes, and taking in the lack of color between his facial ridges, the color now a unhealthy pale gray.

A few long seconds past before the stunned man could answer, and while he smiled encouragingly at his friends concern, he was still breathing hard and blinking rapidly, trying to clear his temporarily blinded vision.

"I am quite alright doctor. Thank you for the loan of your quick reflex's. My knees thank you." He managed, his free hand smoothing his dark navy tunic fastidiously. However his attempt at his usual candor was ruined when he attempted to unobtrusively wipe away the suddenly bout of cold sweat that had formed above his ridges.

"The hell you are! Your nervous system is in a hyper-state of alert! Your lucky your hearts didn't stop!" He retorted, entirely forgetting himself and bringing his hand up to rest at his friends forehead in an admittedly futile attempt to gage his temperature. But since it was already there he had allowed himself the rare pleasure of feeling those tantalizing ridges sliding roughly under his fingers, delighting in the realization that the spoon-shaped formation that adorned the center of his forehead was in fact some of the softest skin he had ever felt.

A retort that had only just begun to leave the Cardassians lips died there, instead he sucked in a hasty breath, his eyes closing momentarily before flickering open again, his piercing blue eyes coming to rest fully on him, a look that even then had sent tingling shivers of emotion tumbling down his spine.

"Why my dear doctor...I had no idea you had become such an expert on Cardassian physiology." Garak finally replied, his usual sly tone returning.

"You will find Garak, that I am just full of surprises." He replied distractedly as he measured the man's heart-rate, not realizing how his words could have been taken till he looked up and caught the surprised yet inquisitive look he shot his way. Causing him to flush a brilliant shade of magenta as he realized the full implications of his words.

However, thankfully for Julian's masculinity the moment was effectively broken by the appearance of a two-man repair crew who quickly passed them, throwing them both curious glances before halting at the malfunctioning fixture and unpacking their equipment.

Julian had insisted on walking the recovering Cardassian back to his quarters, ignoring the mans indignant remarks, but noticing how he had not attempted to remove the doctors supporting arm from his own until they were at his doorstep. At the time he hadn't thought much of it, or of the mans reaction to his unintentional facial caress...but now he was unsure..what if...?

He shook his head, as if to banish all the thoughts crowding about in his brain as he idly twirled his empty glass around in his fist, finding he didn't even have the drive to refill it as he recalled the dreams that had begun that night after he had returned alone to his quarters, still grumbling about the stubbornness of Cardassians and the relative disrepair the station always seemed to fall into whenever the Chief was away for too long. Because, lets face it, it was nearly a written fact. O'Brien was practically married to the station!

He had been startled awake the first time by their intensity. He had rubbed his sweaty palms over his equally sweaty face as he attempted in vain to steadfastly ignore his raging hard on. Looking down as it tented the thin covers around him, still pulsing in unrealized pleasure. The half remembered dreams, muddled by the veils of deep sleep had come rushing back to him, the lurid and erotic flashes turning into full pictures, rich sounds, deep smells, and tingling touches. He remembered the intoxicating feeling thought hard ridges, so sensitive to their owner as they slid through his grip. He remembered his own arousal spiking is he watched Garak's face alight in unmeasurable pleasure, a moan and small whimper escaping those elegant lips as Julian pressed down, just so on his neck ridges. He remembered exploring the trim tailors body, nimble fingers caressing each scale, leaving no ridge or crevasse untouched until a low growl of pleasure and dominance left the Cardassians throat. And before he could so much as protest, he had found himself possessed, kissed more deeply and soundly them he had ever before experienced. In his dreams Garak had just not kissed him, he had owned him, and Julian had let him all too willingly.

It wasn't just a passing infatuation...and it wasn't as simple as an attraction...it was something much more that he felt towards the secretive man...

The chime of his quarters, annoying and altogether too loud echoed obnoxiously through his nearly silent quarters, the unexpected sound causing him to start nervously in surprise. Wincing as the hard-edged couch dug uncomfortably into his sensitive flesh, he glanced wide-eyed at the door as the chime sounded again, the speed belaying his callers impatience.

But like his comm-badge, he simply ignored his caller, staring idly off into space, wondering when they would give up and go away, when a irritated voice, the Irish accent thick in his annoyance, and the banging of a heavy fist effectively shattered his attempts at ignorance.

"Goddammit Julian! Open the bloody door!" Miles shouted, his voice muffled slightly from the other end of the door. "Don't make me short out the locking circuit! 'Cause you know I will!" He continued, cursing loudly as he kicked at the door. "Julian!" He shouted again, even louder this time, banging on the door again for good measure.

Cursing softly, he leveled himself unsteadily off the couch, shaking his head to ward of the alcohol induced dizziness as he set his glass on the table beside the bottle, and without even bothering to put on a shirt he shuffled to the door, kicking at his furniture in bad temper as he passed, fully intending to give the Chief a piece of his mind when he opened the door.

Bracing himself on the door frame, he punched in his code, and the incensed Irish red-head almost fell inside as he leaned into his next, unconnected knock. "About time you-." He began, only to be cut off as he took in his friends half-naked and rather rustic appearance. "Jesus Julian! You look like hell! Whats wrong mate?" He inquired, his friends concern out weighing his irritation for a moment as he pushed his way uninvited into Julian's dark quarters.

Julian finally pulled his wits together and turned from the door frame, entirely forgetting his lack of clothing as he crossed his arms in what he hoped was a intimidating posture over his chest. "Miles. I don't mean to be rude...but I don't want **any** company tonight." He ground out, the rude tone of his voice belaying the thin layer of politeness that had frosted his words.

His friend turned sharply to look at him, coming to stand right in front of him, invading his space as his keen eyes surveyed him for a moment before replying. "Dax was right. There **is** something wrong with you. Because the Julian Bashier I know would never let himself wallow in self pity, shutting himself away from everyone to sit alone..." He paused, sniffing the doctors breath before continuing. "Drinking, in the dark!" Miles replied, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his face turning ruddy in the near light.

Stunned by the force of his friends words, he remained silent for a moment, unable to recall when he had ever seen his usually mind-mannered friend so aggressive and angry. Knowing that Miles wouldn't leave till he got some answers, he turned away, reclaiming his seat on the couch as Miles followed closed at his heels.

"Computer, lights on thirty percent." He ordered, rubbing his eyes reflexively as the room was suddenly bathed in light, thought still dim in human standards, to Julian's tired eyes it felt strangely like standing planet-side in the middle of a North-American summers day.

"Miles, I just tired. I have a lot on my mind..." He finally replied as he friend sat across from him, slouching like Julian on the edge of the smaller couch, the sleeves of his dirty uniform rolled up to the elbows, looking for all intents and purposes like he had just crawled out of a dusty Jeffreys access shaft, which, when Julian actually thought about it, he realized it was probably true.

"Bullocks." His friend replied crossly, even his body language indicating he was in this argument for the long haul. Julian started to say something else then stopped abruptly as he realized quite suddenly that his excuses were no longer working, thinking alone shut up in his quarters, canceling lunch dates, holo-deck activities and the like were not helping...What he needed was advice, he needed to use someone as a sounding board for his troubles, to help him work out a solution.

Julian groaned letting his head fall into his hands, rubbing at his face viciously as the thick stubble that covered his cheeks prickled his fingers harshly, a coarse reminder of how far he had let himself slip. Mile was right and he knew it.

Finally he looked up, sobriety falling on him like an iron weight. He shook his head lightly, steadfastly ignoring the small voice inside that muttered that reality was distinctly overrated, afraid that if he admitted it to himself he'd end up losing his liver.

With some trepidation he met his friends worried eyes, but found no disappointment, nor disgust there, only friendship and concern. "I know...I know." He finally replied, his voice going so soft that the handsome engineer had to lean forward to hear. "I am a bit of a mess aren't I?" He offered, a tentative smile ghosting across his lips.

Miles only snorted, "Well I wasn't going to say anything.." The older man replied, a grin appearing on his face, as he moved forward, noticing the long-necked bottle in front of him. Letting out a long whistle he picked it up delicately.

"Jesus Julian!...Is this...is this what I think it is?" He questioned his voice trailing off as he reverently inspected it. "It is... It's Andorian Glacial Whiskey." Julian confirmed with a nod, enjoying his friends awe as he got up to retrieve another glass.

"Julian, how in the world did you get a hold of this? It must have cost you a fortune!" He exclaimed, watching in barely concealed anticipation as Julian poured him a generous measure, letting the brilliantly ice blue liquid swirl smartly in the glass as he handed it over with a exaggerated flourish.

"No, actually it was a gift." He replied, pouring himself a half a glass, bringing it up in a mock salute before downing it impressively in a single gulp. "So who was she?" The Irish man asked slyly, his eyebrow raised as he came to his own conclusions, turning the glass about in his hand, as if savoring even the color.

"Oh no. It wasn't anything like that..Sufficed to say it was a gift from an ecstatic father." He elaborated, remembering with a smile. "I was on my way to a medical exchange on Andoria for my final year. And I ended up delivering quadruplets right there in the transport. I hadn't even gotten to the surface yet!" He said with a laugh. "Apparently it was the first time in over one hundred years that such a birth was successful." He continued, a smile lighting up his entire face, as he swirled the last bit of liquor in his glass.

"Damn." His friend commented, arching an eye brow over at him before holding up his glass. "I'll drink to that." He replied, and they toasted each other, a toast to generous Andorian's and Julian's change in humor before downing the rare and expensive treat together, with the walls echoing the appreciative Engineers pleasure in rebounding waves as his exclamations filled the room.

The evening spawned into night, and 0200 hours found them still together, sprawled happily on the floor, having abandoned the uncomfortable couches hours ago, finding the floor a much more stable platform for discussion. The empty bottle of liquor sat between them, not even a drop remaining in the crystalline bottle, as they sat propped up beside each other, singing 'Jerusalem' for what was likely the third time that evening, their mugs of Vulcan Port coming together heavily as they toasted each other grandly.

As the last verse of chorus died away, Julian sighed loudly, his chin resting on his chest, the thin white shirt he had grabbed laying remarkably stark against his more natural golden tone. He hadn't gotten out three words when O'Brien had saved him from embarrassment. His dear friend had simply assumed that this was another woman-related problem, probably thinking Julian was suffering from a tragic breakup with some foreign and mysterious woman. The irony of the situation was not lost on him, and he had smile into his cup, as to not burst out into laughter.

But regardless, he used the situation to his advantage, and staged the discussion on what Miles thought was his problem. Only feeling the smallest bit guilty in duping his friend, feeling that this thing between him and Garak...if there even was a thing, was too unstable, to new to be shared... at least just yet.

"I just don't understand it!" He hiccuped, refilling the Chief's near empty glass from the dark brown port bottle between them, thanking whatever deities that were listening that at least some Vulcan's knew how to enjoy the simple pleasures of alcohol induced euphoria. Clear their minds and pallets Morns ass!

"Every time we get together, we end up arguing. It is like everything I say, he ...er **she**! Turns into a bleeding argument!" He posed, slipping slightly but managing to correct himself without his friend seeming to notice.

"And furthermore..." He began again, pausing as he tried to remember his train of thought, delivering a friendly punch on the shoulder to his companion who had begun to laugh at his state distraction.

"And furthermore, she is always toeing the line between being rude and disagreeable. It's as if she enjoys the arguments. I would give it all up as a lost cause if I didn't get the strange feeling that she wants me..." He finished, gazing into his cup slightly morosely.

"Eh, women." The buzzed Engineer offered unhelpfully, slapping Julian on the back as he flopped down on his stomach, stretching out on the floor, his elbows holding him up. "Sometimes, it is impossible to know what they are thinking." He replied with a smile. "But I wouldn't trade Keiko for the world." He affirmed, raising his glass together with Julian for another toast.

Their discussion continued on the same vein until O'Brien seemed to recover at least a small fraction of his sobriety, his eyes suddenly focusing on Julian's face for the first time in a few hours. "You know.." He began. "You haven't told me **what** she is you know..Human, Bajoran, Vulcan, Betazoid, or..or...you know.. The race could make all the difference." He finished knowingly.

Julian shook his head, attempting to clear it. The thought of racial differences in respects to relationship rituals had never fully occurred to him before._ Stupid...Stupid!_ He cursed himself internally, just how could he be so dense?

"Really? How so?" He asked, his attention fully focused on the older man laying on the floor beside him, wondering for a brief moment if the man had much experience in interspecies relationships.

"Ach, well you remember a few years back when those three Cardassian woman from the Cardassian Science Ministry came aboard the station to help us set up that subspace relay to the Gamma quadrant?" He inquired, fiddling with his glass in apparent embarrassment.

"Of course, how could I forget, with you and ...Gilora Rejal was it?" He questioned, waiting for Miles nod before continuing. "Yes with you and Gilora butting heads with every repair and adjustment, and all that intrigue with the Obsidian orders spy. Hard to forget." He replied interestedly.

"Yes well...Damn. Anyway, it turns out that Cardassians...erm... **Flirt** by being confrontational." He stammered slightly, eyes averted as he recalled. It was good fortune for Julian as his mouth had dropped open, his whole face speaking of disbelief and surprise. His secret would have been out before there was anything to tell.

"What?" He managed, his voice almost a croak, which he covered by taking a long unsteady sip from his drink. "Yes...apparently Cardassians pursue relationships by being disagreeable and argumentative to the person they want." He continued. "Bloody strange way to show affection...but I guess that makes sense for a Cardassian." He finished with a snort, downing the rest of his drink in one quick, nervous gulp.

"Well I'll be damned." Julian breathed, entirely ignoring his friend as he moved on to the more ferocious concepts of Klingon flirtation. Every memory of every conversation they had ever had raced through his brain, his enhanced photographic memory recalling every argument, every veiled glance, each of the most slightest of touches they had exchanged. The man had been flirting with him shamelessly for years and he hadn't had a clue! _Prophets! I have been such a fool..._ He thought bitterly, thinking of all the wasted time.

Suddenly he sat up straighter, somehow more sober then he had any right to be after all the alcohol he had ingested. He came to his decision quickly, all his nervousness, and uncertainty were unceremoniously shoved out the proverbial airlock, a new, almost predatory smile blossoming across his lips. He would go for it, he would have that smart-assed Cardassian as his own, even if he had to insult and ferociously argue his way to oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't not own Star Trek DS9 any of it's characters. Do you THINK I would be here If I did?! So I do not in any way shape or form own any of the plot or the characters. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor university student, yadda yadda yadda.

**Authors Note:** This is a Garak and Bashir story, a relationship that had so much potential and promise on the show, but unfortunately the Producers and writers turned them a blind eye, leaving us to only fantasize about what could have been. (Clue to a sad, long-suffering sigh).

**A/N #2:** Unlike in a zoo, feel free to feed the author with your comments and reviews. Not only does it provide us with ideas and constructive criticism, but a good review leaves us with a warm fuzzy feeling inside that lets us know our work is appreciated. So, please read and review. I am excited to see what you all think. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism.

**Illusive Innuendos – Chapter 2**

The next day, and a significant amount of detox-tablets later he rose and all but threw himself into his shower, switching the sonics to pure, good old-fashioned water. Letting the cleansing rush run down his lean legs, banishing all traces of the past few days from his body before he turned the sonics to full, and reveling in the all consuming tingling burn as it bathed him in such a deep-scourging feeling of cleanliness it felt as if he had been dipped in one of Risa's famous deep-sea spas.

With only a small brown towel tucked around his waist he pulled out his plasma-razor and set about about ridding himself of the harsh, dark-brown stubble that covered his cheeks, each stroke revealing pink-tinged skin, and every millimeter mirroring the look of determination that graced the entirety of his golden-hued features.

He dressed in casual clothes, feeling no obligation to dress in his usual uniform on one of his few days off. He dressed with particular care, causal, yet stylish. He picked tan slacks, and a tan suit jacket from his wardrobe before hunting through his drawers for the perfect shirt. He needed something less informal...sexy, something perfectly suited for the closely tailored jacket. Finally, he found it, shaking it out fully so the dark purple silk caught the light, sending shimmering ripples through the luxurious fabric.

_'Perfect..._' He breathed, remembering the day he had seen it in Garak's shop as he browsed with Jadzia, having been somehow dragged along to help her pick out a new cocktail dress. The rambunctious Trill had seen the shirt immediately and had plucked it off the rack before Garak had even left his counter, shoving him towards the dressing room before he himself had even known what was happening.

Slipping it on, he looked himself over in the mirror, grinning slightly. _'Knock 'em dead Bashier.'_ He winked, before leaving his rooms, locking the door behind him. It was already late afternoon when he strolled out into the promenade, greeting those who hailed him with a steady grin and quick conversation as he passed. He even stopped to greet Quark warmly as he passed the bar, hardly noticing the bartenders shocked look as he nearly dropped the trinket he was polishing.

Garak's shop was empty when he strolled in, the tailor himself so absorbed in something on his view-screen that he didn't notice the doctors entrance, nor indeed his quiet approach. _'Perfect!' _He thought, just praying that whatever luck had been lent to him would continue to stay strong.

He placed his hands on his hips, the suit ruffling in soft waves as his hands slid along the vibrant silk. "I thought spy's were suppose to be alert." He drawled suddenly, leaning on a clothing rack, his voice breaking the near silence of the shop, and causing the distracted tailor to jump slightly in surprise, his bright blue eyes going wide in shock. "Ah...but then again, you **have** been out of the game a long time, haven't you Garak?...I suppose such skills...simply slip with time." He continued, his smile predatory as he opened their encounter with a bitingly rude comment, hoping to every Prophet within hearing distance that he knew what he was doing.

For the first time in his life, he experienced the distinct pleasure of rendering Garak momentarily speechless. The handsome tailor simply gaped at him, his neck ridges flushing a dark black hue as he stared at the human standing before him.

"Why doctor...You seem to be in a much better mood then of late." The Cardassian replied, recovering quickly as he closed down the terminal in front of him, steepling his fingers in a thoughtful pose under his chin. "And you, of all people should know that Cardassian hearing is not as keen as your own. Or do you simply enjoy rubbing it in?" He added, cocking his head slightly.

Cutting straight to the chase he ignored the tailors measured comments, deliberately deigning the man the satisfaction of continuing his own argument. "Do you intent to stare at me all day, like some love sick Bajoran school girl, or would you like to join me for dinner?" He asked carefully, making sure to include a smoothly biting jibe in with his seemingly casual invitation. As if he both insulted and propositioned Cardassian tailors on a regular basis.

"Why doctor! You surprise me." The tailor mocked, "With such an...indecent comparison. What would Major Kira think of such an...insult?" He asked, his eyebrow arched as he closely inspected the doctors face, no doubt attempting to deduce the doctors agenda.

"No doubt she would tell you to shut up and answer my question Garak." He doctor replied easy, stretching his arms up slightly as if to ease some hidden tension, the movement tightening his shirt around his torso, for a brief moment outlining the deliciously toned muscles of his abs, and the lightly muscled expanse of his waist to Garak's decidedly eager gaze.

"Indeed my dear. Well then, lead the way. You do owe me for your rather...abrupt departure last evening. I was only just getting started about the obvious delusions your species seems to operate under when it comes to your Federations self-termed policy of 'Friendship and Exploration." The tailor replied, his rebellious tongue suddenly returning in full, a strange heated glint in his eyes as he rose, smoothing his dark blue tunic over his chest, the vibrant silver trim doing something strange to Julian's insides.

Recovering himself quickly, he only grinned and motioned the tailor out, waiting with him and making sure to stand just a bit too close as the tailor locked up the shop, his keen eyes noticing the Cardassians covert glances, and the deepening of his eye color.

Once in Quark's, Julian ordered for them both, not even letting Garak choose his own drink. Enjoying the man speechlessness once again as he ordered Rom to bring them a tankard of Klingon Blood Wine, and a tall glass of Kanar for Garak. Once the drinks had arrived, Garak seemed to find his tongue again, and after a considerable sip of the Cardassian beverage he broke the tense silence.

"Really doctor! Blood wine? I would think you would choose something more...refined." He began, his voice coolly casual, his head cocked in his usual self-assured way. Julian only grinned, having selected the potent beverage anticipating just such an statement. He lifted the heavy tankard, giving his Cardassian a mock salute before taking a healthy gulp, licking his lips appreciatively before replying.

"Well Garak, I thought it was appropriate, due to the company I am keeping." He replied smugly, grinning into his tankard as he watched Garak almost choke on his mouthful of Kanar. _'Who would have thought this would be so easy?' _He thought incredulously before Garak looked over at him. His gaze was openly heated, his eyes piercing, his skin seemingly flushed a permanent coal-black hue, and Julian could have sworn he even smelled different, a spicy scent, alien but intoxicating had suddenly permeated the air around them.

He couldn't know for sure, but from what little he had read on Cardassian physiology he believed it was their species potent pheromones, released into the air when a Cardassian male was deeply aroused. He judged the moment and decided that the time for subtle flirtation was over, it was time to erase any doubt of his intentions in the mind of his goal, and see what would happen.

Setting down his nearly half empty tankard, he leaned over the table, setting his soft, warm hand over his friends rough, ridged one, noticing the sharp intake of breath that followed his movement. He moved his finger, ever so slightly over the ridge was followed Garak thumb, until he was tentatively massaging it under his steady fingers.

"Doctor..." Garak breathed, his voice almost a whisper as he tightly shut his eyes, attempting to steady himself, the doctor could almost sense him trying to get his ragged breathing under control. "Garak.." He began, increasing the pressure of his hand on the ridge until the man met his gaze again. "Garak...You shall have to forgive me, but I am simply not in the mood for Quarks tonight." He replied, making ready to stand.

Garak started in surprise, features shifting as he apparently thought quickly, a few unveiled emotions flitting across his face faster then Julian could register them. Finally the man rose, pushing his drink way as his hand slipped out from under Julians, coming to rest atop the sitting mans, the pressure enough to inflame Julian's blood, that familiar tightening in his groin beginning as the touch and the pure masculine scent of the man mingled together, tingling his enhanced senses.

"Doctor, I know exactly what you mean. Might you join me in my quarters? I can assure you...the atmosphere will be much more...pleasant." He offered, all subtle overtones gone, replaced by pure, utter, open honesty. Something that Julian found deliciously refreshing.

"I couldn't agree more Elim." He purred, voicing the mans rarely used first name, and feeling as the man gave the slightest of shudders before lifting his hand from atop his and stepping down from their booth together.

So immersed in each other, they didn't even notice Jadiza and O'Brien sitting in the far corner by the dart board. Entirely missing Mile's and Jadiza's delighted smiles as they watched the two men leave. Clinking their glasses of Romulan Ale together as they toasted to their friends good fortune, exclaiming how it was 'bloody well about time'...before ordering up another round from Rom and restarting their abandoned dart game, smiles still steadfastly in place as Julian and Garak rounded the corner of the Promenade and disappeared out of sight.

Julian had no idea how they made it up the turbo-lift and into the Habitat ring. He had never known it to take so incredibly long to reach Garak's quarters, which was saying something as their pace was steady.

His head was whirling by the time they reached the door, and he marveled for a moment that the tailors fingers could be so steady as his security code was hurriedly punched in. He wondered, for a brief, heart-stopping moment if he had given out the entirely wrong signals, what if...what if...Garak merely thought they would continue their interrupted dinner discussion? What if...?

But as it turned out Julian didn't even have a moment to think before the lapels of his sports coat were abruptly seized and he was pulled unceremoniously into the room, the doors sliding shut with a well oiled hiss behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't not own Star Trek DS9 any of it's characters. Do you THINK I would be here If I did?! So I do not in any way shape or form own any of the plot or the characters. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor university student, yadda yadda yadda.

**Authors Note:** This is a Garak and Bashir story, a relationship that had so much potential and promise on the show, but unfortunately the Producers and writers turned them a blind eye, leaving us to only fantasize about what could have been. (Clue to a sad, long-suffering sigh).

**A/N #2:** Unlike in a zoo, feel free to feed the author with your comments and reviews. Not only does it provide us with ideas and constructive criticism, but a good review leaves us with a warm fuzzy feeling inside that lets us know our work is appreciated. So, please read and review. I am excited to see what you all think. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism.

**Illusive Innuendos – Chapter 3**

The sheer force of the action brought him stumbling ungracefully into the room, his limbs connecting with Garak's as the strength of his pull sent him sprawling straight into his host. Garak's hands however did not let him fall, and while one hand still held the front of Julian's bunched jacket in his fist, his other arm had wrapped tightly around his waist.

Grasping the tailors shoulders automatically for balance, his startled exclamation died in his throat as he met the man's heated gaze. The two men stared at each other for a long moment, both breathing hard, still holding tightly to the other as if the moment might suddenly shatter around them if they let go, and the stark loneliness of reality return.

Julian felt as if his every sense had been hyper-stimulated. It was as if his heightened state of arousal had unleashed his senses, setting his every nerve alive with coursing electricity, and sending his blood pounding in his ears.

His tingling skin screamed garbled messages along his nerve endings to his pleasure-fogged brain as he felt every inch of the Cardassian pressed against him, the simple pressure of his thigh against his sending thrills of arousal directly to his already stimulated groin. So alert was he that he could even feel the superior strength that tensed the steady arm around his waist, the ridges that lined each finger tickling his side ever so slightly as they caressed his skin through the thin silk shirt he wore, the movement so slight he almost didn't notice.

Regardless of the low light, his eyes seemed to focus without strain, revealing the shine of Garak's eye scales as they glinted in the dull light. With his usual fascination he let a single hand trace the beginnings of those ever-tempting neck-ridges until they disappeared into the flared collar of his close-fitting tunic. The gasping hiss of the man's breath delighted his keen ears as he trailed a light finger down the small swath within his reach, watching in both pleasure and fascination as the ridges darkened and swelled slightly as blood rushed to the aroused skin.

Having heard of Cardassians infamously sensitive neck-ridge, he decided to put the theory to test as he gave the engorged ridge a light squeeze. The reaction was immediate, and the result was undeniably affective. Garak let out a sudden gasping hiss, his neck arching as he wavered on his feet, his fingers tightening convulsively, digging into Julian's hip as pleasure bombarded his brain. Julian was about to bestow the opposite ridge with the same attention, when Garak's hand swiftly captured his own, holding the ensnared limb in between them, as if attempting to stem off temptation.

Julian raised his eyes, meeting the aroused tailors gaze again, unable to help the smug grin that flitted across his face as he took in the sight. Garak was still breathing hard, his eyes fluttering slightly behind those coal-black lashes, before his intense blue eyes reappeared, effectively ensnaring his gaze as easily as he had his hands.

Suddenly, and heart-wrenchingly abruptly Garak broke away from their heated embrace, abandoning Julian to the emptiness that existed where he had once been, stepping away as if to put a measure of distance between them. He let his hands slump at his sides, he knew how the mans mind would be racing, he knew without asking what questions would be screaming for answers, the feelings of confusion...insecurity...and doubt. He knew because he too had experienced them, he hadn't even been completely assured his feelings were fully returned until just moments ago.

So he knew how important it was to speak now, to assuage the secretive man, assure him of his intentions and his feelings, before this new, and more vulnerable side retreated once more under his well-worn mask of deceit and false emotion, a false face he presented to the universe.

By the point, Garak seemed to have pulled himself together and finally broke the silence, his voice sounding strange to Julian after such a long time of existing in near silence.

"Doctor...Julian...I..." He began, his voice throaty and rough as it trailed off as their eyes met again, the usually glib-tongued tailor seeming to be, for once at a loss for words. Julian ran his hands through his hair, ruffling his black curls before moving a step forward, gratified when Garak made no move to retreat, instead he met his gaze steadily, his hands carefully clasped behind his back.

"Oh Garak, you wouldn't believe what a fool I have been." He began, shaking his head as a small, half-smiled formed on his lips. "I was so blind...I never even realized..." He sighed, pausing for a moment as he ordered his thoughts.

"The ironic thing Garak, is you were right yesterday at lunch..." He continued as Garak cocked his head questioningly. "While one of Star Fleet's primary focuses is exploration, and a policy of openness in experiencing other cultures...it indeed **does not** necessarily mean that all it's members so doggedly follow such such a mantra...Through my own ignorance and inattention I never realized what you were offering...You tried to tell me god knows how many times. But where you propositioned and hinted, I saw only arguments and disagreeability. I never considered...I never even thought to research the difference between our species courtship rituals..." He explained, eying Garak's veiled gaze in an effort to determine his mood before continuing on, noticing that despite the mans unfathomable gaze his fists were clenched tightly at his sides.

"God Garak! You couldn't have know...But I have wanted you for years...Years! But I never thought you might have felt the same until last night. It took nearly an entire bottle Andorian Glacial Whiskey, and the unwitting advice of chief O'Brien of all people...before I realized it." He admitted, looking down at his feet in shame.

"What I mean to say Garak...if it is not too late..That I–mmph!" He exclaimed, his next words effectively smothered as he was abruptly, but deliciously assaulted by a pair of cool lips and strong fingers. Without him even knowing, Garak had crossed the distance between them, both physically and emotionally. Effectively silencing his tentative babble to deliver his own answer, no words required.

Julian found himself seized tightly, brought into the stronger man's embrace with a gentleness that belayed the speed and strength he knew the older man possessed. But regardless of the gentle grip Garak had on his forearms, his lips were fiercely possessive. In that long, timeless moment, Julian forgot how to breath, how to think...all he could feel was the blood pounding in his ears, and the twin sensations of roughness and softness that tingled on his lips, as ridges and soft lips pressed against his own.

But for all of Garaks dominance, it was Julian who broached the barrier of the Cardassians lips. Seizing Garaks arms with his free hands he connected them together, and with a tentatively but determined tongue he licked his way past those gray lips, and let his tongue wind sensuously with Garak's own, his motion eliciting a heated moaned from them both as Garak returned the gesture.

Julian could not recall having ever been kissed this way before...It wasn't simply demanding and passionate, it was as if he was the oxygen Garak needed, an addiction that needed to be fed... 'If he knew one thing for sure, it was that whoever coined the phrase that the Cardassian people were cold and without passion had obviously never kissed one!' He thought idly, letting out a soft gasp as Garak nibbled sharply on his bottom lip, effectively bringing back his attention to the matter at hand.

Kissing Garak was also different in an entirely other sense as well. It was alien...strange but refreshing. Garak's lips were cool to the touch, so different from the warmer body temperature of a human. And the ridges that rubbed his face, adding to the stimulation of the kiss were present even inside his mouth, as the ridges that lined the side and center line of Garak's tongue brushed the sensitive nerve endings in his mouth.

_'Good god...'_ Julian thought as his head spun, the pleasure in his groin mounting, drawing him deeper and deeper into the pulse-pounding sensation. _'I could bloody well cum from this alone!'_

As Garak's grip loosened, his attention diverted as his hand explored the softness of the shirt, brushing the length of his silk-clothed arm experimentally. Julian unwound his arms from Garaks, closing the small gap between them, finally running his hands through that tantalizing black hair, ruffling it from it's usual slicked back fashion, watching as the black strands slid smoothly through his fingers, coming down to frame the tailors face.

Not to be out done Garak reluctantly abandoned his lips, sliding Julian's jacket off his shoulders letting the coat fall to the floor as his nimble fingers set about undoing the small buttons of the silk shirt, letting it hang open on his frame as he ran a curious hand along the length of his chest. The touch was both exploratory and passionate, his hands eager as he discovered Julian's body as he ran a curious hand along the length of his chest from collarbone to stomach, gently thumbing the light spattering of hair that trailed from his chest, disappearing below the waist of his tan slacks.

Moving around to the back of him Garak embraced him from behind, nuzzling the back of his neck, a deep rattling growl issuing from his throat as he explored the breadth of his shoulder. "So soft...warm.." He breathed softly, his breath ghosting gently past his ear as he thumbed aside the collar of the shirt.

As his ridged thumb brushed the hollow of his shoulder he chuckled as Julian shuddered under him. "So it must be true..." He murmured sensuously, his breath tickling at his ear. "What is?" Julian asked distractedly, gasping as a wet tongue ran the length of his collarbone.

"That most humans seem to find touches around the neck to be quite...stimulating..." He replied smugly as he nipped Julian's neck eliciting a pleasured gasp as he went. But Garaks smugness evaporated only seconds later into mind-numbing pleasure when Julian turned in his arms, and seized his neck-ridges, kneading and pinching them lightly, not even giving the man a moment to gasp before he took the nearest ridge in his mouth and bit down. It was only Julian's tight hold around his waist that kept that man on his feet as he knees buckled and his near orgasmic cry echoed off the bulkheads.

Garak let out a loud groan, his head arching back, his grip on Julian increasing as he slammed their hips together, the action causing both men to moan aloud as their erections rubbed together, the motion enough to make his head spin as he clearly felt the mans erection grind against his through the thin fabric of their trousers.

"Like you should talk!" He gasped back, his fingers falling to the hem of Garak's tunic, searching for a clasp or a zipper. "You have an excellent point Doctor..." He replied, his voice gravely as he shook himself, obviously still attempting to recover his senses. "Perhaps we should call a truce?" He proposed, growling deep in his throat as his hand skimmed along the surface of Julian's exposed chest, a sound that sent Julian soaring into yet another plain of pleasure. The decidedly primal noise stirring something deeply laden in himself, exciting him..

The low orange glow of the room illuminated Julian sultry smile as he caressed the ridge that outlined the tailors chin. "Ah but what fun is there in that?" He queried with an almost feral grin as he began to propel the aroused man backwards into the even darker shadows of the bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't not own Star Trek DS9 any of it's characters. Do you THINK I would be here If I did?! So I do not in any way shape or form own any of the plot or the characters. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor university student, yadda yadda yadda.

**Authors Note:** This is a Garak and Bashir story. Theirs was a relationship that had so much potential and promise on the show, but unfortunately the Producers and writers turned them a blind eye, leaving us to only fantasize about what could have been. (Cue to a sad, long-suffering sigh).

**A/N #2:** Unlike in a zoo, feel free to feed the author with your comments and reviews. Not only does it provide us with ideas and constructive criticism, but a good review leaves us with a warm fuzzy feeling inside that lets us know our work is appreciated. So, please read and review. I am excited to see what you all think. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism.

**Illusive Innuendos – Chapter 4**

The damp silk clung Julian's body as they entered the room, the higher heat of the Cardassian chambers finally beginning to overheat his body. As they nearly stumbled over the threshold Julian momentarily wished he had a moment more to pursue the decor. He had never been in Garak's personal quarters. Ever during the mans illness he had tended to him in the main room, having respected his privacy too much to rummage through his belongings.

So naturally now that he was actually in a position to pursue at his leisure he was insanely curious. One bedroom is a persons most private space and more often then not the decorations come to mirror the owners personality and he was curious indeed how it would in Garak's case. Would it be plain and simplistic to display his secretive nature? With Garak the possibilities could truly be endless.

However he only got a brief glimpse of a statue covered bureau before he found himself nearly airborne, landing on his back on the bed and looking up at the tailor who was slipping out of his boots above him.

Julian soon saw his role as the aggressor dissipate in front of him as quickly as a drop of water in the Sauna program he designed for Garak a year or so earlier in the holodeck. He took in a deep gulping breath as Garak slid the boots from his feet, inspecting his wiggling toes in curiosity. Julian soon came to realize that like in everything else he did, Garak was quite the attentive and skilled lover, showing the will power of a man much stronger then Julian had ever thought possible as he learned the secrets of Julian's body.

Julian endured the pleasure of Garak's touch with mounting sexual tension as the Cardassian's hands mapped out every contour of his body. He seemed to take particular pleasure in raking his fingers through his body hair, fingering the dark hairs in apparent admiration. He was equally as cautious in his perusal when he encountered Julian's dark brown nipples, but just as pleased as Julian moaned aloud when his experimental tongue laved the sensitive pleasure points.

He almost praised the Prophets aloud when Garak's fingers finally made their way to the waistband of his pants. Experienced fingers ghosted his navel as the zipper was finally lowered and Julian's naked erection was emerged from it's confines, finally free from the imprisoning cloth of his pants as they slid to the ground behind them, joining the purple silk thrown half-hazardously behind them as they had made their way into the room.

When that ridged hand finally closed around his cock Julian actually did call out to the prophets, having to reign in the last vestiges of his control not to let go on the spot. After a long moment the urge to come passed and he peeked up at Garak from behind his dark lashes only to find the man gazing at him openly, his face as naked as the golden-toned human breathing beneath him.

Trepidation and self-doubt seeped into his heart, chilling him. They were so different...What if he was too different for Garak? What if he wasn't what the man expected? Self-doubt had always been a facet that had plagued him. Regardless of his enhancements he had always felt unsure and less then adequate in comparison to his peers. But of course, he had always hid those feelings behind a thin veneer of smug superiority and aloofness. His own mask he wore to fool the world, and sometimes even himself.

These thoughts and more invaded his brain until he looked away, suddenly unable to met his eyes. But the second he did, Garak's cool hand turned it back, capturing his lips in a passionate, but soft kiss before resting his forehead against Julians, rubbing his spoon-shaped marking lightly across the smooth skin of his forehead.

"You are beautiful Julian...I can finally say it... so beautiful..." He murmured softly, his voice almost purring out his name, causing tingling zips of arousal and relief coursing through his body.

It was with those simple words, naked in their honesty from the snarky, secretive tailor that his self-doubt and insecurity crumbled, leaving him with the intimate knowledge that he was desired...wanted. And though it had yet to be said... a part of him dared to think he was even loved.

His last few coherent thoughts before his mind spiraled down into heated passion and raw desire were a few colorful curses on the unfathomable difficulties of undoing Cardassian garments before he finally yanked the last clasp free and flipped them over, making the man moan as he began an exploration of his own.

Many hours later Julian awoke, the unaccustomedly high temperature sheening his body in a light layer of sweat, finding a ridged leg slung over his own deliciously stimulating his exhausted flesh. Sitting up he pushed off the soft coverlet, blinking several times as he banished the last vestiges of sleep from his vision. Looking around he had to restrain a chuckle as he observed the room.

Their clothes lay thrown everywhere, covering the floor in a colorful later, the abundance of clothes due primarily to the multiple number of layers Garak wore. He even had to restrain a full-blown laugh in order not to wake his sleeping companion when he spied something that looked suspiciously like his own underwear snagged on the outstretched arm of a Cardassian style statue on the dresser.

A small smile graced his golden features as he looked over at his companion, the low light creating shadows that played across his ridged face. The shadows that flitted across his face with his every movement creating a fascinating contrast of darkness and light, much like the essence of the man himself.

He smiled as he listened to the soft rattle of his breath, feeling the subtle rise and fall of his body pressed against his. His skin still knew the contours of his lovers body, still remembered the number of ridges on his belly, and the scales that shone a dark coal-black along the curve of his spine. Turning back over to face his lover, he pulled back a few hindering strands of hair from his face, swinging it up to join the rest that streamed unhindered in a jet-black curtain across the pillow.

The man looked positively peaceful as he slept, with not even a ghost of tension remaining on his face. Instead, a half-smile graced his lips, his ridges flushed a healthy dark-gray, his neck scales still pleasure swollen from Julian's ardent affections, also held a healthy glow. He ran a light hand over the soft curve of his cheek, smiling when the sleeping man turned into his touch, snuggling himself closer to Julian's warm body as he slept, his face pressed into the curve of Julian's shoulder as he slumbered on peacefully. 'Now **that** had to be an unconscious reaction.' He thought with a grin as Garak certainly didn't strike him as a snuggler!'

Still smiling he stretched luxuriously as he recalled the passion of the last night, running his hand through the stark black curtain of Garak's tousled hair as he remembered. Garak hadn't let him torture him long, but he had delighted in what he had discovered. It still seemed so surreal...so unbelievable to know he finally had Garak...He felt as if at any moment the computer would tonelessly wake him from slumber and this happy dream would end.

He was now quite certain that there wasn't a spot on the Cardassian's body that wasn't erogenous. With his every touch the man had growled, groaned, and moaned..it was one of Julian's most erotic experiences, and he was the one on the giving end!

When he had finally unclipped the last buckle, yanked off the last clasp and undone the last button, he had begun his long awaited exploration. He discovered, to his secret delight, that the ridges did indeed go **all** the way down, winding down his thighs to outline the sides of his feet in an almost pure black ridge pattern. He had skimmed his anticipating fingers across the mans nippleless chest, pausing instead to suck on rough ridge, or lather at a cluster of scales.

He kept the man always on his toes, always uncertain of his next move, finding it intensely gratifying to hear his gasping moan when he would be inconspicuously caressing his sides, and then with no warning he would whip back up to inflame those tantalizing neck-ridges, reveling in the husky way he would groan out his name, or utter a curse in the heat of the moment that the universal translator wouldn't quite pick up.

He had been flying by the seat of his pants up until he reached his goal, instilled by a naive sense of confidence his brief readings into Cardassian physiology had provided him. But he came to a rather abrupt and screeching halt when he peeled away the last layer and found that the finishing piece of the masterpiece was rather...absent.

He could only stare for a moment...Having to stop himself from blurting out a panicked: "Where is it?!" And instead took a steadying breath and began exploring the area in more detail, keeping Garak occupied with lingering touches around his belly-ridges. _'After all...'_ He had reminded himself, _'He had had his own fair share of intimate inter-species relations...and not everyone of them had had all the conventional parts!'_

What he had initially mistook for Garak's erection was actually two opposing ridges, much more pronounced in nature, much like his neck-ridges. In between those ridges was a moist slit, the skin around it hued the most lightest of grays.

For a brief moment as he eyed the man's groin, he felt as if he were almost a virgin again, completely out of his element and unsure of what to do next...But in a moment he cast those thought aside and without so much as a tentative pause he ran a light finger along the length of the pale gray slit. The reaction was immediate, Garak sucked in a startled gasp, his hips arching straight off the bed, lifting Julian's weight with him as if he were no lighter then a tribble, his eyes nearly rolling as he seized Julian's hand and held it tightly just above his groin.

"Was that good?" He had asked tentatively, wondering if he might have misinterpreted the oddity's function. It took Garak a moment to respond, but when he did he cracked open a brilliant blue eye, raising a hand to rake his fingers through Julian's curls, the sensation of his hand-ridges brushing his scalp causing him to tingle in pleasure. "For someone who claims to have never slept with a Cardassian, you certainly know how to please one." He managed before Julian's hand returned to his groin, driving him wild as he began to fondle him in earnest.

And wild he got, the caresses drove the usually calm and collected man into an unrestrained and uninhibited being. He attempted to roll them over, a low growl issuing from his throat as Julian ignored the silent invitation.

Finally, acting on inspiration, Julian nipped back up for a quick kiss, moaning into his mouth as Garak experimentally nibbled on his lips before griping his thighs securely, and with no warning he ran his tongue along the length of the slit, discovering a musky but pleasant taste as he did so. Predictably Garak moaned, his hips bucking as he squeezed those beautiful blue eyes closed, his mouth open in a silent cry, his hand flying down to massage his groin.

But before Julian could so much as bask in his small triumph he found himself abruptly rolled to the bottom as this time Garak asked for no permission, using his superior strength to flip Julian under him. He quickly found himself under assault, his mouth captured in Garaks, his body nearly tingling as his hand ran the length of his body, it wasn't until he felt something rub deliciously against his aching erection, and he gasped, not even needing to see those ever-present ridges to know they were there as they stimulated his own pulsing shaft.

When he did look down he was happily greeted by Garak's fully engorged and glistening erection. As alluring as his touches were his curiosity finally bested him and he hazarded to comment. "Fascinating!" He exclaimed unwinding his hands from Garak's hair, grasping the man's penis in a firm grip, so deep in his inspection that he barely noticed Garak's harsh breathing, and the trembling in his muscles as he attempted to maintain his dominant posture above him

Running his fingers along the thick patterns that adorned the shaft he inadvertently spread a naturally occurring lubricant that was being excreted through the Cardassian's pores, the action eliciting a strangled moan from above. Meanwhile, Julian kept up a one sided conversation with himself, his natural curiosity and physicians intuition unable to resist forming a plausible hypothesis for the phenomena even as his own shaft throbbed insistently for his attention.

"An ingenious design really.." He chattered on inspecting the edges where the slit had been with interest. "It really makes sense for a reptilian species to have the penis and testes inside to conserve heat. And the automatic response of excreting a natural lubricant must be a survival trait to aid in procreation in such a dry climate as Cardassian Prime. I wonder if it works in tandem with a females-." But before he could finished his scientific musings, his breath was forced out of his lungs in a rush as a ridged hand closed over his erection and began stroking him in a slow languid rhythm, effectively flooding his mind with pleasure, sending both his attention and blood flow down south, making him entirely forget he had even been talking in the first place.

"I do hope I am not interrupting some crucial Starfleet xenobiological breakthrough my dear.." Garak purred from above him, pausing to deliver a few deep open mouthed kisses, his other hand still working Julian's shaft in the same maddening rhythm."But I have much more pressing matters I wish to...discuss." He finished in a silky whisper. And Julian could only squirm and whimper in pleasure as he was suddenly sent spinning in a haze of heat, sensation and erotic pleasure.

The love making that followed was of a caliber that Julian had never before experienced. No woman, nor indeed man had ever made him feel as Garak had. It was as though he were being assaulted and gentled at the same time. Garak was both a ferociously passionate, but caring loving, staying true for once to his persona of being a man of many extremes.

He had paused, drawing Julian in for a deep kiss before draping himself over him, his gray scales contrasting with his golden skin. Before Garak had finally entered him he had flipped him over, heeding Julian's pleading cry, wrapping a strong arm around his waist, the other placed in between Julian's tensed arms. He had almost come from the sheer intensity of it...feeling him pressed in behind him...

He remembered how his pleasured grunts and moans had echoed erotically off the bulkheads as the ridges that stream-lined Garak's impressive cock stimulated his passage again and again as Garak rammed himself home.

Julian knew he was done for when he felt Garak's cock brushed his prostate, sending such a rippling wave of intense pleasure throughout his entire body that he very nearly collapsed onto the coverlet, his arms visibly trembling as he attempted to remain upright.

Observant as always Garak noted his reaction and despite his warning on his nearness, he positioned himself to hit the same angle and he struck again. It took only a few more brushes before Julian came completely undone. He doubted any human, even one with enhancements such as himself could have withstood that ridged cock for long.

But in true Bashir style, even as the blinding flash of sizzling white pleasure had enveloped his vision, and the mind-numbing euphoria of his orgasm washed all conscious thought away, he had reached around behind him blindly until his fingers found what they sought, and just before he let the sensation consume him completely, he heard Garak yell out his own completion behind him, the combination of Julian's convulsing passage and his measured grip on his neck ridges proving to be too much for even the Cardassian to bear.

He smiled internally, reliving within the privacy of his own mind all the pleasures they had shared. It had felt like hours before they had finally fallen asleep still caught together in an exhausted tangle as the Sandman finally granted them rest. It still felt so unreal to him, to finally have Garak.

He had thought he had come to his realization too late, that Garak had surely given up on him. But instead he had been accepted, desired and even loved after so many years of missed signals, failed romances, casual flirtation, and cultural misunderstandings. And he sighed deeply, feeling a warm sense of contentment wash over him as he stroked an idle hand through his lovers hair, lowering his head to breath in the musky scent of him, the smell alone enough to set his head pounding and his blood running.

Quite obviously still dreaming, he watched as the man turned in his sleep, the thick covers sliding down to reveal a deeply ridged back, a pure black scale pattern adorning the wide ridges that followed the curve of his spine. Julian smiled as he trailed a finger along it, his actions making no secret of the delight he found in finally being able to touch those handsome ridges.

It was only with his companion stirring awake beside him that he was brought from his pleasant reminiscing back to the present, and he grinned down at the sleepy Cardassian as he blinked up at him blurredly.

"Good morning...Or I guess I should say...afternoon." He greeted eying the nearest chronometer as he corrected himself. "Hmph." Garak replied as he turned over, yanking the covers back over him until his whole body was lost in a sea of multi-colored coverlets. "Are all humans so annoyingly good tempered at such an ungodly hour?" He finally replied, his voice muffled slightly from under the covers.

"Just me I'm sure." He teased, peering under the covers at him with a grin, finding that even in the near light the brightness of his blue eyes could not be dimmed. "Besides, it's technically the afternoon cycle anyway." He added grinning when his rejoinder elicited a disgruntled snort from the sleepy Cardassian. "Don't argue semantics with me my dear, as I can guarantee you will lose." He replied coyly, halfway emerging from his self-made cocoon to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him effortlessly into his embrace, his fingers immediately straying downward to stroke the thin smattering of hair that trailed down his belly.

"Oh I don't know Garak..I did learn from the best." He replied with a laugh, rolling himself atop the man and distracting him with a kiss. It was sometime later before they had both the breath or brain power to speak, as Julian had soon learned how easy it was to inflame the tailors passions, sleepy or not.

They were both startled out of their post-coital sluggishness when Julian's com-badge went off. Like a shot Julian scrambled off the bed in a flurry of flying limbs and blankets as he darted out of the bedroom absolutely butt-naked, Garak's hissing laughter following him as he all but pounced on his sports coat, grabbing the badge he had slipped into the inside pocket the night before, wasting precious seconds as he fumbled with the device, cursing under his breath as he clicked it on.

"Bashir here!" He replied, his brain on red alert as a galaxy full of possibilities as to why he was getting commed on his off hours buzzed through his brain. But all his bravado abruptly drained, leaving him feeling rather ridiculous as he stood completely naked, in the low light of Garak's living room, when the rather timid voice of his newest nurse, a youth fresh from the academy answered.

By the time he had explained how to treat Morn's Tarkilian fish allergy he returned to find Garak missing from their bed, the water shower gurgling in the washroom. Grinning he slipped inside, only just able to make out the fit Cardassian through the veil of steam that already fogged the clear shower stall. Pausing at the threshold as he enjoyed the view, and the unusual pleasure of catching the man unaware.

The man was sinfully delicious. His eyes closed, face upturned into the spray, his black hair slicked back from his face as water streamed down his body, following the curves of his ridges as gravity brought it downward. His smile faded for a moment as he recalled something his pessimistic father had once said in his childhood.

_'For every positive outcome there is an equally negative one about to round the next corner.'_ The rule of the universe his father had called it, and as a young boy he had taken him at his word and had always anticipated an encroaching personal disaster after his every triumph or childhood victory. Not realizing till he was older that they were the jaded words of a bitter man. Even now his father would have him believe that a grave turn would be awaiting him if he embarked on this relationship with this man. Because he could think of no greater victory..or indeed moment in his entire adult life, that he had used every fiber of his being to work for then winning Garak's heart.

'_Well I won't have it!'_ He told himself firmly, finally casting aside the old ghosts of his difficult childhood. From now on the only mantra he would follow was his own. It was time he made his own destiny. And for the first time in all his thirty years, he knew the direction to begin.

Without so much as another thought he squared his shoulders and lithely slipped into the shower with him, hugging him fiercely from behind as he nuzzled his face into his dark neck.

"I am afraid I don't know the proper protocol for seducing a Cardassian in the shower." He whispered huskily, his voice barely audible above the sound of the running water. Reluctantly leaving the neck he had been nibbling on he let his fingers wander, and before long he was drawing pleasured moans from the soaking Cardassian as he began to massage his already inflamed neck-ridges, having to groan himself as Garak's fingers closed around in erection..moving in tandem to Julian's massage.

"**This** time my dear doctor...The technique is **very**...**very**..universal." The man growled his hair falling forward in a sleek curtain as he turned, capturing Julian's lips in a fiery kiss before pinning him to the stalls side. The room soon echoing with Julian's amused laughter before their conversation trailed to a close, being rapidly replaced by an erotic symphony of moans and groans of pleasure.


End file.
